Tea and Ginger Biscuits
by Thaurtiliel
Summary: Following an unexpected revalation about Hermione, Draco confides in her. Will she be able to help him, or is this a problem that not even the 'Brain of Hogwarts' can solve? R and R please!


Unlike many people believed, Hermione Granger had always known who her real father was. It was no secret to her year that the man who dropped her off and picked her up from Platform 9 and ¾ wasn't biologically related to her; she hadn't seen any need to keep it a secret. Her mother had never kept that fact a secret from her either, although it was plain to see that she had no facial similarities to the man that she called Papa at all. Richard Granger had always been the man that she ran to when she fell and cut her knee, he had always been the man that had protected her from all the bad things in her young life, and to her, he was her Father. She had never called him Dad however. That particular term was reserved for the man that had fathered her; the man to whom she owed her existence upon this planet.

The first time that Hermione had seen her real father, she had been a peculiarly precocious four-year old. It had been a bright summer's day, and she had been running madly around the garden, giggling as she was chased around the apple tree by Richard Granger. When he had inevitably caught her, she giggled even more, waiting for him to swing her upside down and walk her round the garden as he held her by her ankles. That is what always happened after they played Chase and Hermione never doubted that that was what would happen this time as well. As he walked around the garden in big swinging strides, Hermione watched her hair brush against the ground in time to the movement of her father's feet.

When they were again standing in the shade of the apple tree, her father had gently lowered her to the ground so that she was lying in the grass.

"Sugarplum? You know that I love you and that I am your father and always will be right? Even though you have a Daddy out there, you can always come to me?"

"Of course." Hermione piped up in her still childlike voice. "I love you Papa."

"Good. Now go to your mommy, because she has a surprise for you." Hermione had run off eagerly towards the house, leaving her father behind still kneeling in the grass looking sadly to where her small body disappeared into the house. Richard Granger remained outside for this reunion; being the tactful man that he was, he knew his presence would not be appreciated there.

Hermione had run eagerly into the house, desperate to know what exciting surprise her mother might have for her. Could it be some chocolate cake? She loved her mother's chocolate cake, but she didn't make it nearly enough, something to do with her teeth and something that sounded nasty, called 'decay'. There was no smell of chocolate on the air however, and Hermione's face fell a little as she realized that there was to be no cake today.

"Mommy?" Hermione called out

"I'm in here sweetheart, come into the living room." Hermione skipped happily towards her mother's reassuring voice.

"What have you got for me Mommy? Papa said that you had a surprise for me," Hermione had said, standing in the door frame, not coming fully into the room.

"I do Hermione, come in properly and you'll see it."

Hermione had stepped fully into the room, and had looked around for what could be considered her surprise. She stopped and stared at the unfamiliar man who was sat awkwardly on their sofa, looking at her very intently.

"Is HE my surprise Mommy?" Hermione had asked in a confused tone,

"Yes sweetie, he is. This is your Daddy."

"My daddy?" Hermione had turned away from her mother and walked across the room to stand in front of the man. She stared at him as intently as he stared back at her. He was a thin man, with black hair that fell down to his shoulders; Hermione had never met a man with long hair before, and she was intrigued by it. The man had very warm brown eyes, exactly like hers, and a long thin pale face with a mouth that looked as if it didn't smile very much. Her Daddy looked like a sad man, Hermione thought suddenly, which made her sad. Her little lower lip trembled, and the man's face fell.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea Anna. I'm going to go now but…" The man never got a chance to finish what he would have said, as he was interrupted by Hermione throwing herself onto his lap and hugging him tightly.

"Don't go Daddy, if you stay then Mommy might make her chocolate cake for us, and that will make you happy!"

The man sat very still for a moment, and then tentatively moved his arms around the small girl sat on his lap. Gradually his joy overcame his caution, and he fully embraced the small girl who was so willing to call him Daddy.

"I told you that she was a clever girl, didn't I? She's been waiting for you for a long time."

"Yes you did Anna. I should have come sooner, but I'm here now."

Hermione liked the sound of her Daddy's voice rumbling through his chest and against her face. He smelled nice too, like something spicy and interesting and she snuggled closer to him, and breathed in deeply.

"Have you met Papa, Daddy? He's out in the garden." Hermione sat up in his lap.

"No, I haven't met him." She bounded up off of him, and grabbed his large hand in her small one and pulled him.

"Come on then, I want him to meet my Daddy! Come ooooooon!" Hermione whined as she felt resistance when she tried to pull him along. Reluctantly he rose from the sofa, and glancing at Hermione's mother, scowling as she just smiled beatifically at him.

Dragging her Daddy quickly through the kitchen door and out into the garden, Hermione shouted loudly.

"Papa? Papa? Come and meet my Daddy!" Letting go of her Dad's hand, she ran across the lawn to Richard Granger. The tall man stood alone in the sunny garden, feeling very out of place and awkward. He suddenly wished that he had his robes; at least in those he could feel comfortable in his own skin. These Muggle clothes did absolutely nothing to help him feel better about the situation that he was in. Seeing his daughter dragging a tall, blonde man towards him, he almost physically grew from the pride and love that he already felt for this small bundle of energy that had his eyes.

"Daddy, this is Papa. Papa this is Daddy." This small child that he had made was coping so unbelievably well with this strange situation that she had been pushed into, he thought as he shook the man's hand. He didn't quite know what to say to the man, but as he looked into his eyes, he thought that he saw understanding.

They had spent the rest of that day together, talking about what her Daddy did for a living. Hermione's eyes had grown wide as she heard about how magic was real, and that she might one day be able to do magic as well. She had laughed with delight as her Daddy had made little birds out of pebbles from the ground, and had made her hair change from brown to pink, and back again. When the sky had grown dark, he had announced that it was time for him to leave. Hermione had looked up at him calmly, those big brown eyes staring into their mirror image in her Daddy's face.

"Will you come and see me again tomorrow?" She asked.

"Not tomorrow, but sometime very soon I promise." He had looked sincere, but Hermione had needed some extra reassurance.

"Pinky-swear." She had said, and then held out her tiny little finger to him. He had looked down at her, confused beyond belief.

"What!"

"Pinky-swear!" She had re-iterated and reached out her hand and twined her small pinky finger around his much larger one.

"Now promise that you'll come back and see me soon. If you pinky-swear then you can't ever break it."

"I promise to come back and see you very soon." He had promised solemnly, resisting the urge to smile at the serious expression on her small face.

He had left then, but true to his word he had indeed come back very soon to visit her, and had continued to do so throughout her life. There was never any warning, she would walk in from school one day, and there he would be, sat on her sofa with a broad smile on his face. True he sometimes missed important days, like her birthday (which had upset her no end the first time it had happened as she had been relying on him to show all of her friends the bird trick), but she knew that she could rely on him remembering. There was always at least one wrapped parcel from him at her birthday or Christmas. She knew that her Daddy loved her, even if sometimes he couldn't be there for her when she needed him; that was okay though, because Papa would always be there for her as well. Instead of feeling that she was missing out or bitter because her Daddy wasn't there, Hermione had always felt lucky that she had two great fathers.

When she had received her acceptance letter for Hogwarts in the summer when she was eleven, her Daddy had swept in like a whirlwind.

"I'm so proud of you! You're going to be the best witch that Hogwarts has ever seen, I just know it! Oh honey, I'm so proud!"

Hermione had been filled with such happiness that it had felt like her chest was going to explode. He had picked her up and swung around in a circle with her clasped tightly to his chest.

"I'm glad that you're happy Daddy." His face had been split into two, his grin was so wide, and she had smiled back at him.

It was he that had taken her shopping in Diagon Alley to get all the supplies that she needed for her first year at Hogwarts. He had taken her to Gringotts Bank and had shown her the vault that he had been keeping for her since he had found out that he was going to be a father. It was filled with piles of gold, silver and copper coins, and Hermione's eyes had widened at the sight of it.

"It's all for you sweetheart. It's what I've saved for you to have when you reach seventeen; you can use it for whatever you want. College, a house… whatever you need at the time." He had then gone to his own vault and had taken out money from his own vault to pay for her equipment.

It had been such a fabulous day, and the years at Hogwart's had been even better; her Daddy had never missed an opportunity to tell her how well she was doing and how proud of her he was. Now it was her seventh year, and she would be leaving the hallowed walls of the respected institution forever in just ten short months. Walking in through the high arched doors, Harry and Ron settled at the long Gryffindor table, and as Hermione walked past them towards the High Table, they smiled at her. They were so proud of her becoming Head Girl; Hermione had thought that Ron's head was going to explode, he had become so red and excited.

As she approached the High Table, she noticed that one of the familiar faces was missing. She turned to catch Dumbledore's eye and loudly enough for the whole Hall to hear he spoke to her.

"Miss Granger, I wonder if you would be kind enough to go and retrieve our absentee."

"Of course Professor, I will go right away." She smiled at the Headmaster and turned around to stride quickly back the way that she came.

Hermione moved quickly down the path that she knew so well and knocked on the oh so familiar door. Hearing a muffled 'Enter', she pushed open the door to the classroom.

"Daddy? You're going to be late for the Feast!" She announced.

Severus Snape whirled around from where he had been leaning over a gently bubbling cauldron.

"Honey! I didn't realise it was so late! I wouldn't miss your inauguration feast for the world; did Dumbledore send you to come and get me?"

She nodded as she walked over to where he stood by the cauldron. He pulled her in for a quick one-armed hug and kissed her on the forehead.

"What are you doing Daddy? I don't think I've ever seen a potion that colour before; it looks very exciting!"

Snape smiled, his daughter had inherited his passion for potions and almost excelled even his encyclopaedic memory for them.

"Nosy child; it's none of your business what it is. Besides, I'm sure that you'll enjoy the challenge of discovering what it is and then triumphantly announcing how I've done it wrong."

Hermione smiled up at her father, "You know me so well. Now come along, I'm sure that you've been so engrossed in this that you haven't eaten at all today."

"And you know ME so well, my dear, you are indeed correct. Now then let's get to your feast, before we miss Dumbledore's speech."

Together the two of them walked towards the Great Hall; arm-in-arm through the dungeons where nobody could see them, but separating once they were in the main body of the castle. Hermione entered the Hall two steps after her father, and carefully maintained that distance between them. It had taken her a long time to get used to the fact that nobody could know of the relationship between them. It had been so hard during her first year not to let slip with 'Daddy' instead of 'Professor'. Hermione understood why it needed to be like that however; and knew that it pained him as much as it did her, to have to be so disagreeable and patronising towards her during lessons. Many times during that first year, he had held her and reassured her while she sobbed in his embrace after a particularly trying day.

That first year she had gone to sit with him on the train up to Hogwarts, and he had begun the slow and painful task of explaining to her. He explained why he had not been able to come and see her when she was little, and why it had to be a secret while they were at Hogwarts. He had explained all about Voldemort, and the Death Eaters.

"It was when I was young and stupid, Sweetie. I was pushed into it by my father, but I didn't know any better myself anyway. It was only when I met your mother that I finally realized how wrong the whole thing was. I hadn't meant to fall in love with her, but I just couldn't help it. If Voldemort had found out, he wouldn't have hesitating in killing her, and me, so I had to end it for her sake. She wrote to me two weeks later, telling me that she was pregnant and that she was going to keep the baby. I went that same day and told Dumbledore that I would be a spy against Voldemort; everything that I had thought I believed in was completely destroyed that day."

"Voldemort knows that there is a spy, and is ever watchful against all of his closest Death Eaters, one of which is me. I have had to keep everything of my private life a secret; even you. If Voldemort knew of your heritage then he would not hesitate in killing you, and I will not allow that to happen. This does mean however, that there will have to be certain rules that we must follow when we are in public during this term. You CANNOT let anybody know that I am your father; not even people that you are certain you can trust. They can be broken by spells and potions and the fewer people that know about this, the safer that you will be.

"You must also always call me Professor Snape, and for safety you must pretend to hate me at all times. I in return will have to maintain my pretence of hating all Muggle-born witches and wizards. This may mean that I seem particularly hateful to you, and honey, I wish that this could be different. You know that I am always proud of you, and that I love you very, very much; this is for your own safety and it must be done. However, you may come and visit me at any time you wish, outside of lesson times obviously, I will show you where my rooms are, and Dumbledore has told Filch that you are to be allowed to come and see me after curfew so there will be no problems there."

And so it had been like that, for the whole of Hermione's Hogwarts career; pretending to hate her own father, and secretly going to visit him most nights. They sat there talking about their days and Hermione talked about what she had learnt that day. She could always rely upon him for advice and help with anything, and these moments were among the happiest of her life. Of course there were times when they had argued; many of them about her friendship with Harry Potter and the danger that she seemed to be constantly putting herself in. Snape's dogged determination in battling with Quirrel had had nothing to do with Harry like he thought, but was all to do with him battling to protect his daughter from danger. Hermione had always thought that part of his antagonistic behaviour towards Harry was less for show and more because he didn't approve of the scrapes that he got her into. Despite the dangers that she had faced, and the disapproval that he sometimes heaped upon her, Hermione knew that he was proud of the things that she had done.

As Hermione settled into her designated seat as Head Girl, next to Dumbledore and the Head Boy, she breathed a sigh of satisfaction. Life was good at this moment in time, and nothing could change that; not even the fact that Draco Malfoy was Head Boy. The difference between her father's overt racism and Draco Malfoy's was that Malfoy meant his, whereas Snape was only pretending. That first time that Malfoy had called her a Mudblood, she had run to her Dad in tears; he had been angry enough to kill, and would have if Hermione had not physically restrained him. It had taken her a while to remind him that he was supposed to be an advocate of the philosophy that had driven Malfoy to say those things. It was ironic, she'd thought at the time, that she'd run to him for comfort and had ended up doing a better job of it herself than he could have at the time.

Harry and Ron smiled up at her from their places at the head of the Gryffindor table, as near to the High Table as they could get. Right at that moment, Hermione Granger felt blessed; she had three parents who loved her dearly, and friends that would die for her, as she would for them. She'd been granted the highest honour that the school could bestow, and best of all, Voldemort had been quiet for a good few months, granting a brief respite from worry and allowing her lots of time with her Dad. At this moment, Hermione Granger was about as happy as it was possible to get.

Draco Malfoy was about as miserable as it was possible to get. This obsession of his fathers was getting ridiculous now, and Draco was getting very sick of it. When he was younger, he was so in awe of his father that it seemed like the only logical thing to do to copy him. Draco had impersonated his father's attitude, language; hell, he had even impersonated his father's walk. But that was a long time ago, and Draco had grown out of that like last years shoes. The only problem was that nobody seemed to believe that he'd grown out of that; he hadn't called Granger 'Mudblood' in a very long time yet nobody, except maybe the Headmaster, had seemed to notice that. Draco didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps anymore, because he could see that that was a path that led nowhere. His father was pushing him more every day to join a cause that Draco didn't believe in; to follow a cause that was led by a man that broke the laws of that very ideal.

Draco didn't know quite where to turn; he knew that he didn't want that ugly tattoo on his arm, but he sure as hell wasn't going to fight against his father. There didn't seem to be a middle ground, so Draco continued as before; keeping his views to himself and being misjudged by all of his fellow students. He sneaked a look at Granger; she would understand, he knew this for sure, for who could be that clever and not be able to grasp the nuances of his situation. The only problem was that he didn't know if he could trust her not to run to Dumbledore, or someone equally unsuitable, and spill everything that he told her.

Snapping back into himself, Draco realised that it was time for them to make their inauguration speeches. Being a gentleman, he allowed Hermione to go first, and clearing her throat, she stood up.

"Students of Hogwarts, welcome to a new year, a year that will hopefully be filled with laughter, love and learning. I would firstly, before anything else, like to say thank you to everybody for making it possible for me to be stood here today. Secondly, I would like everybody to know that if ever you need anything, from academic advice to relationship problems, then always feel free to come and talk to me. I don't profess to be an expert in all of the areas that you may have problems in, except of course, the academic ones," here Hermione paused for the ripple of laughter that followed to die down, "But I do promise that you can talk to me in confidence and that I will do my best to help you, or refer you to someone who can. I also promise, that whatever time that may be, three am or otherwise, that I will always provide coffee, tea and ginger biscuits. So, have a great year Hogwarts, and make the most of it!"

Hermione sat down to applause; rapturous applause from the Gryffindor table, and half-hearted sporadic clapping from the Slytherin table. Draco then rose to his feet and began his speech.

"Hogwarts, I am not going to offer my ear at three am, because if you try that then I'm likely to kick you out with a flea in your ear. However, I am here for you lot, your mouthpiece to the people in charge, and if there's something that you feel needs to be dealt with, then talk to me, and I will pass on your concerns. So in short, emotional sobbing people at ungodly hours are Hermione's and rational people with legitimate concerns at normal hours are mine. Remember this and it will stand you in good stead; have a good year and I hope to see as few of you as possible, except for if you're cheering for the Slytherin Quidditch team."

With this, Draco sat down to rapturous applause from the Slytherin table and half-hearted clapping from the Gryffindor table. Hermione's speech could have been just for him, for all the relevance that it showed for his current predicament. Although he wasn't entirely sure about the offer of free ginger biscuits at three am. He wasn't a massive fan of ginger biscuits, not that he'd ever had any; they were a Muggle food and therefore completely banned from the Malfoy residence.

The feast went by quickly, as Draco chatted amiably with Professor Snape, who was sat on his right. He studiously ignored Granger, who was sat on his right, however although she didn't seem to notice as she chatted with the Headmaster. Draco had known Snape for his whole life, and was fairly sure that the man viewed him as the child that he'd never had. Snape was a Death Eater with his father, but Draco wasn't entirely sure that Snape's loyalties lay where they should have. One too many scrapes that he'd surreptitiously helped Potter out of, thinking that nobody had noticed. Malfoy wasn't about to reveal this to anybody however; he liked Snape, and one could always do with an ally in perilous times like these.

Snape wasn't entirely pleased at the seating arrangements for the feast, but he could see why Dumbledore had done it like that. It would have been more than slightly suspicious if he had been seated next to his daughter, and been chatting away with her, when he was supposed to hate her. It was so hard for him to pretend like that, when she was the person that he loved most in the whole world. It had meant more to him than he could say when she had been accepted into Hogwarts. He got to spend most of the year with her, with a perfect excuse for doing so and nobody would be suspicious. He risked a glance at her, sitting there with Dumbledore; his heart filled with pride, she was such a clever girl and had become a caring and wise young woman… even if he did say so with a slight touch of fatherly bias.

He talked quietly with Draco Malfoy; he had been surprised when the boy had matured out of a bigoted and irritating child into a pleasant young man. It had not gone unnoticed that the childhood values he had held had been shed with the rounded cheeks of his babyhood. Snape had considered many times telling him the truth of the double life that he led, but he could never be quite sure enough to take that step. He remained secret, but he was forever dropping very subtle hints about that cause that he hoped Draco would pick up on. If the boy could be swayed against Voldemort then so much the better; Snape didn't want to see any more young lives lost to that bitter and twisted old man. It was all so hard; he inwardly sighed, and then glanced once more at his beloved daughter before getting up from the table and exiting the room in his trademark stalk.

Hermione watched her father go, and then watched as Dumbledore stood up; after instructing the prefects to escort the first years to their common rooms, he dismissed the rest of the school. Turning to Draco and Hermione he smiled,

"Shall I show you to your rooms now?" They exchanged a brief glance

"Certainly sir, I for one am eager to see where we will be living for the next year." Draco answered for the both of them.

"As am I." Hermione added.

"Then let's go; it isn't far to your quarters, they're centrally placed to be easily accessible to all students." Dumbledore added

It wasn't far to their rooms at all, for barely three minutes had passed until Dumbledore announced their arrival at their rooms. It had one entrance, guarded by a painting of a black panther who was stalking from one side of the picture to another.

"Smurf." Dumbledore announced loudly, causing Hermione to giggle. The painting swung forward smoothly and revealed a large doorway covered by a wooden door upon which hung a plaque saying 'HEAD DORMITORY'. Dumbledore then handed them each a key, which hung on a silver chain obviously intended to be worn around the neck.

"As an added level of protection, since the dorm is situated in such a busy area, you have been given a door as well. Only myself, and Professors McGonagall and Snape have keys as well as the two of you."

Hermione nodded at the sensible precaution; she herself travelled down this corridor at least four times a day as it was on the route from the Gryffindor tower to the Great Hall, and therefore all areas of the castle.

"Now then, I shall leave you here and allow you to explore your new rooms by yourselves. The prefect's meeting has been scheduled for seven pm tomorrow, and you will be expected to host that. I would appreciate it if you could come to my office tomorrow at six, so that I can talk to you about the issues needing to be raised with the prefects. Right, goodnight you two and I shall see you bright and early tomorrow for breakfast!"

"Goodnight Professor," They chorused, before turning towards the door, and each extending their keys so as to unlock the door.

"You go," Hermione said, as they both pulled back at the same time.

Draco nodded and swiftly unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing the room that lay in darkness beyond. As Hermione stepped into the room, the lights came on, flooding the room with a soft yellowish glow that illuminated every corner of the room without seeming blinding or harsh. Hermione was impressed at the size of the room, which was large but remained cosy despite this. There were two mahogany roll-top desks with matching chairs on opposite sides of the room, but facing towards each other. There were two large, sprawling sofas and two squishy looking over-stuffed armchairs gathered in the centre of the room. There was a fireplace in one corner of the room, and by the door there was a coat rack for their outdoor clothing. There were two doors leading off from their common room, one on each of the walls nearest their desks. There were no signs above either of the doors, but in unspoken agreement, Draco took the room on the right, and Hermione took the room on the left.

Hermione's room wasn't large, but then again it wasn't small. There was a four poster bed pushed up against the far wall, with a window on either side of the bed. On the wall by the door there was a large wardrobe and a bookshelf, which Hermione was delighted to see had some volumes on it already. There was a door leading out of her bedroom on the wall on the left of the door, and Hermione walked over to it. Pushing it open, she was very pleased to find out that she had her own bathroom, with a separate shower and bath. If there had been one thing that Hermione had not been looking forward to, it was the thought that she might have had to share a bathroom with Malfoy, but it looked like her fears were unfounded.

Walking back out of her room and into the common room, Hermione saw Draco just settling into one of the chairs.

"How's your room Malfoy?" Hermione asked politely, determined to at least start the year in a friendly manner.

"It's fine Granger, how's yours?" He said in the same light tone.

"It's very nice thanks." She replied, slightly surprised by the civil tone that he was taking, and pleased that he too was making an effort to keep this friendly. "I'm glad that we don't have to share a bathroom though, I wasn't looking forward to that."

"No, me either actually but it seems to have turned out alright in the end doesn't it." He was amazed that he and Granger were managing to have a civil chat; maybe he would indeed be able to talk to her about his problem.

"Yes. Well anyway, I think that I'm going to go to Gryffindor for a while. I might see you later then; enjoy your book." Hermione walked across to the door and pulled it open.

"Do you have your key Granger?" When she nodded, he smiled, "Have a good time."

Once outside the door, Hermione paused and leaned back against the smooth wood. She stood there for a moment, brow crinkled as she tried to work out exactly what was going on in there. Had she somehow stepped into some parallel universe? Was she actually asleep and had dreamed that entire pleasant and utterly unexpected interaction between herself and Malfoy? A pinch to her right forearm quickly and painfully dispelled that notion; still rubbing her arm, Hermione decided that she needed to talk to her father about this. Her former plan of going to visit Gryffindor quickly abandoned, Hermione made her way swiftly down to the dungeons.

Draco was not in the same state of agitation as the Head Girl, having merely proved what he had thought to be true before. That Hermione Granger was as noble as her house dictated; she would forgive him his previous atrocious behaviour and would be a good listener when he finally chose to unburden his worries onto her. Satisfied with the progress he had made that night, Draco settled down to continue reading his thoroughly entertaining book, laughing out loud when he reached one of the more amusing incidents that the hapless Muggle had gotten himself into. Truly, it was amazing that some of these people got past the age of four with their absolute ineptness.

Hermione knocked on her father's door and without waiting for an answer, slipped quickly inside. She didn't immediately call out for him, knowing that she couldn't just yell 'Daddy' when there were other people in the castle. If he had a visitor, then that would be absolutely disastrous as far as they were concerned. Luckily, at that moment, he walked out into the living room, with a towel wrapped around his waist, and his long hair dripping onto his shoulders.

"Eeeeeeew, Daddy! Go and put some clothes on! I didn't come down here so that I could be confronted with that! Oh God… the humanity! THERAPY!"

Laughing at his daughter's overreaction to the sight of his bare chest, Severus walked into his bedroom and dressed quickly. He emerged back into the living room only a few moments later, pulling an old long-sleeved undershirt over his head.

"Now that I've succeeded in completely traumatising you, what is it that you want?"

"It's about Malfoy; there's something going on with him, and I'm not sure what it is. You know that he confides in you, do you know anything about it?"

"What do you mean something going on? He hasn't said anything to me, although we haven't really been in contact over the summer. What's he been doing?"

"Well it's more like what he hasn't been doing. He has yet to call me one nasty name, throw one insult or generally be the bigoted prick that we all know him to be. In fact he's been more than alright with me, he's been downright pleasant. That's just not right!"

"Hermione that is not appropriate language for you to be using, and you know that I will not hesitate to wash out your mouth with soap!"

Hermione grimaced remembering the first time that her Dad had used that particular punishment against her for swearing.

"Sorry Daddy."

"Right, now anyway, as you know I spend quite a lot of time talking to Mr Malfoy, and I have to say that I have noticed quite a change in him over the past few years. You say that it's unusual for him not to be insulting you, but think about it for a second. When was the last time that you can actually remember him insulting you? A DEFINITE insult, not just a silence or him ignoring you."

Hermione thought about it for a moment, then her brow creased and she thought some more. She sat down on the couch and thought some more; Snape sat down, knowing that it was best just to let his daughter think this through on her own rather than trying to force it out. After a moment her brown uncreased and she sat up straighter in her chair.

"Fifth year; he didn't insult me once during sixth year at all, in fact he just acted like I was a stranger to him all that year. I remember once he even smiled at me, I thought that he was being sinister but maybe he wasn't, maybe he was being friendly. Daddy what's going on?"

"Indeed… what IS going on?" A voice echoed out across the room, and both Hermione and Snape spun around to look at the figure standing in the now open door of Snape's rooms.

"Malfoy! What are you doing down here and why in Merlin's name did you not knock! Do you think that it is acceptable to just barge right in to a Professor's private rooms whenever you feel like it!" Snape raged at the shocked boy.

"I did knock sir, and I heard you speaking and I thought that you had told me to come in… obviously I was mistaken, I'm sorry." Draco backed away, as if to exit the room, but Snape quickly aimed his wand at the door and caused it to slam shut and lock.

"What did you hear?" He demanded coldly, his wand still gripped tightly in his hand.

"Something that I shouldn't have, evidently, and something that's currently making me feel like I've stepped into some alternate reality."

At this point Hermione stood up, entering into the scene for the first time.

"Enough, both of you. Now Malfoy, if you would be so kind as to tell us exactly what you heard, then we'll explain it for you. I think that would be a fair deal, right?" At this moment, she looked pointedly at her father, before returning her intense gaze back to the squirming Draco.

"Fine." They both sulkily said, at exactly the same moment. Hermione looked pleased and gestured at the chairs arranged opposite the sofa on which she was sat.

Draco was the first to break the silence that had fallen over the small group when they had settled.

"Well it's not exactly three am, but how about some tea and ginger biscuits?" Hermione grinned at this, but Severus scowled and seemed to be about to say something when Hermione interrupted.

"That sounds like a good idea Malfoy, if you'd do the honours?"

He nodded and pulled the long velvet rope behind him, summoning a house elf, which ironically enough turned out to be Dobby. Hermione ordered some tea and biscuits from the terrified elf, carefully remembering to ask that they include some chocolate digestives (her fathers favourite) and some Helga Hettysweet's Original Wizarding Recipe Biscuits (Draco's favourite, although don't ask how she knew this).

Almost instantly Dobby was back with an enormous tray covered with mugs, platters of biscuits and a huge steaming teapot. Hermione smiled to see that Dobby had remembered to put her own favourite ginger biscuits on without being told. Smiling and murmuring her thanks, Hermione poured the tea (milk and two sugars for her father, lots of milk and half a sugar for Draco, and plain with a slice of lemon for her.)

"How is it that you know how I take my tea and what my favourite biscuit is, and I barely know if you even DRINK tea!" Draco asked, dumbfounded.

Hermione looked mildly embarrassed at this, but returned his gaze steadily.

"Because I asked Professor Snape." She replied.

"But why?" Draco demanded, her answer not helping his confusion at all.

"So that I could offer to make you tea occasionally. I thought that it would be nice this year if we could be friendly, seeing as how we have to live and work together all year."

Draco nodded; accepting her answer as sensible, since he had been planning something along those lines himself, although without the tea.

"Right, okay, and is Professor Snape your Dad?"

"Yes."

"Right."

At this, Severus rolled his eyes at the pair of them.

"Teenagers! You lot can't do anything properly, be it a gently simmering potion or the explanation of life changing revelations."

"Hey!" They both said, sounding outraged.

"I can so too properly simmer a potion Daddy and you know it!" Hermione whined sounding very much like a four year old. Draco laughed.

"After accusing us of being emotionally retarded, the only thing you take offence at is his insinuation that you can't make a potion! And you do it sounding like a spoilt brat! You need to get your priorities sorted."

Vaguely recalling that Ron had said something like that to her back in first year, Hermione raised an eyebrow and huffed at him.

"Now, if you're through being childish I shall explain everything to you."

Two hours later, Draco was feeling somewhat shell-shocked. It was as if his entire life had been tipped into a blender and made into a pina-colada by some over zealous bartender.

"So what you're saying is that your entire life, for the past eighteen years has been a lie, and that everything that I thought I knew about you is wrong?"

"Not exactly, but something like that. I mean, I'm still the same man and much of the advice that I have given you through the years stands true. It is just that up until now you have believed that I was with your father in the matter of the Dark Lord, and this isn't true."

Draco sat back in his chair and sighed, massaging his temples with his fingertips in a gesture of deep thought that Severus recognised.

"I know that this is a lot to take in, and that you are feeling very mixed up at the moment, but I'm afraid that I must ask something of you."

"Yes, yes. Absolute secrecy, must never tell anyone, blah blah."

At this blasé dismissal Severus began to rise from his chair, but was stilled by a motion from his daughter.

"Draco, I'm not going to ask you to keep this a secret. I understand that in life, sometimes you need to be led by your heart, not by what people tell you to do. I always knew that we would be found out sooner or later, and frankly I'm surprised that we got away with it for this long. If you decide that you need to tell your father, then do that because nothing that any of us do can prevent it. I only want you to think about it; by destroying us you are destroying any hope that the Light side has. Without my Dad we have no knowledge of Voldemort's plans, no knowledge of his actions, and we're fighting shadows. I have always hoped that you'd turn out to be on our side Draco, but this is a decision that you have to make on your own."

Draco contemplated her words; she was as understanding and insightful as he thought she'd be. He knew that he'd done the right thing in picking her to be the person that he spoke to about his doubts in following the path of his father.

"If it's alright with you Granger… or Snape… or whatever, I'd like to have a private word with you in our common room. Professor Snape, if it's possible I'd like to talk to you tomorrow, whenever would be best for you."

"After dinner, in the Potions classroom." Severus mumbled, examining Draco closely for any hints as to his thoughts about what he'd been told.

Draco nodded and he stood up, closely followed by Hermione, who grabbed a platter of the biscuits, and neatly piled it half full of ginger biscuits and half full of Helga's. She attempted to pick up the teapot and two mugs in one hand, failing miserably until Draco stepped in and wrested them from her.

"Admit defeat occasionally Granger," he murmured before moving quickly toward the door of the chamber. After Severus had unlocked it with a quick spell, he held it open for Hermione and nodded a goodbye to his professor. Looking under Draco's arm, Hermione flashed a reassuring smile at her father before the door closed and blocked the two teenagers from the worried mans sight.

By some sort of unspoken understanding, neither Hermione nor Draco spoke a word until they were safely ensconced in their living room on the two armchairs with the tea and biscuits on the table in front of them. Draco leaned over and poured Hermione's tea, exactly the way she liked it, and balanced two ginger biscuits on the saucer before handing it to her. She smiled her thanks and watched him as he prepared his own tea and carefully selected one Helga's and one ginger biscuit.

"How surreal is this whole night?" He asked, being serious.

"Very. Shall we just sit for a bit? Take a deep breath before the storm hits?"

"That sounds like a great idea." He smiled gratefully and settled in his armchair. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, listening to the flicker of the fire and the gentle sound of the wind outside.

"So I guess that you've always known that Snape was your Dad then?"

"Yes, well since I was about four, so pretty much all the time that I remember. He's a great Dad, he really is. I mean he couldn't be there all the time, because of his job here, and the danger of discovery, but I never felt neglected. Papa was there as well, I mean my mother's husband, so I was never without a whole set of parents. If you ask me, everyone should have two fathers." Draco smiled at this, and said ruefully,

"You wouldn't want two like mine, believe me." Hermione's face fell a little at that

"No, I guess that I wouldn't."

"Look, Hermione, the reason that I was so civil to you earlier wasn't exactly… um, well… I was nice for a reason."

"I had assumed as much Malfoy." Hermione said dryly, "What I wasn't sure about was exactly what you needed me for."

"I need someone to talk to, someone who'll understand and give me advice, but who isn't so close to the situation as to run the risk of it getting back to my Dad. I thought that you would be perfect, especially after the speech in the Great Hall. The friendliness was sort of a test; if you didn't curse me I was going to try to talk to you. After this new revelation I'm more convinced than ever that you are exactly the person that I need."

"Well, I can't exactly tell the entire school that I'm there for them, and then deny the first person that asks. I'll listen Malfoy, and I may even venture some advice, as long as you promise not to bite my head off." She smiled at him, settling further back into the chair, and tucking a blanket across her lap, indicating that she was ready for the long haul.

A.N. Well, I was originally expecting this to be a one-shot, but it appears to have developed into something of a monster, so I'm going to have to split it up. Please R and R, and let me know how the story is, and whether or not it's worth continuing!


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